


Getting Better

by Tearose_romantic



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Needs a Hug, Dimitri loving hours, Drabble, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Some good old fashioned love and support, learning to love yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28074567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tearose_romantic/pseuds/Tearose_romantic
Summary: A brief drabble about Dimitri's journey toward mental wellness.Somewhere along the way, his friends, his allies, his family came together and loved him back to life.  The hurt he held inside did not vanish, but each day it became a little easier to bear.  Day by day, the support of those around him pulled back the heavy pall of sorrow from his soul and let in the light of being alive.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Blue Lions Students, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & My Unit | Byleth
Kudos: 12





	Getting Better

Sentimentality was Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd’s greatest strength and his heaviest burden. From the king’s closest confidants to a passing stranger, tales circulated of the man’s kindness. From the pardoning of enemy soldiers to his continued aid to struggling farmers, every action of the Savior King exuded extravagant care for the downtrodden and weak. 

He seemed to bleed for the nation in peacetime as he had in wartime. No task was too menial, no injury of the war-torn nation too inconsequential to King Dimitri. He loved the nation of Faerghus, the people proclaimed. So much was his grief at her fall to the Empire that he went nearly mad for love of Faerghus, like a mother bear for her lost cubs. He cared so deeply, that nothing kept him from restoring the land to peace. And his subjects loved him for it. 

His closest allies agreed. Dimitri had a tender place in his heart for his brothers and sisters in arms. They had become his family, blood beyond blood. He treasured them all, and they all knew it. He spoke his affection in crushing hugs, frequent correspondences, and a swiftness to aid that rivaled the fastest Almyran destriers. They knew of his soft heart, but they all remembered how it almost killed him. He so loved those dear to him that he let their shadows cling to him when they passed on. He loved so deeply it nearly shattered his tender heart, leaving a monstrous husk of himself behind. Only by an act of the Goddess did he find the shattered pieces and reassemble them. But the scars on his heart remained. His allies knew his sentimental soul for what it was: a boon and a burden to their beloved friend. And they loved him for it. 

Dimitri himself knew he was loved by both his people and his friends, but for the first time in a long while, he felt truly happy. After the Tragedy of Duscar, a thick pall of self-loathing and sorrow overshadowed him. Even his smiles and laughter remained dulled, muted. He performed well enough, putting on a mask of normalcy in public, but the hurt remained and festered. When El had upended the world, all of his drive for redemption honed in on her demise. Only now he realized how misguided he had been. 

Somewhere along the way, his friends, his allies, his family came together and loved him back to life. The hurt he held inside did not vanish, but each day it became a little easier to bear. Day by day, the support of those around him pulled back the heavy pall of sorrow from his soul and let in the light of being alive. 

Dimitri remembered small milestones along his journey, his recovery. 

The first time he laughed so hard he cried when Sylvain asked Ingrid on a date and received a dunk in the horse trough for his troubles. 

The first time he recounted the Tragedy and did not break down in the telling with Byleth.

The first time he slept with no nightmares after Rodrigue’s untimely passing. 

The first time he looked forward to waking up each day after the war was won. 

The first time he tasted food again when Flayn shared her cooking after Dedue’s careful tutoring. 

The first day he heard no voices was so painfully ordinary that nothing stood out about it except that one realization at sundown. 

The first day he realized he truly liked himself came on subtly on his 25th birthday, surrounded by friends and loved ones and accepting that he was worthy of their care. 

Dimitri couldn’t help but thank the Goddess for his current mental stability. The gift of freedom from self-loathing, nightmares, and pain was more precious to him than any treasure in Fhirdiad’s coffiers. Life’s pleasures no longer had a bitter aftertaste. He could savor them for their sweetness unimpeded. 

His life could not truly be his alone. He was a king after all. But it was far more his own than it ever had been in the past. The journey had been rough, full of false starts and old habits resurfacing, but each day he had moved, and worked, and improved. 

He wasn’t fixed, but he was certainly better. Much, much better.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece has been chilling in my drabble pile for a while, so I decided to post it. Idea came from my own moment when I realized, "I like myself and I've been doing well for a while." I had my own struggles with mental health and self-esteem when I was younger, and it's taken probably a decade to really feel comfortable in my own skin. (Nothing so dramatic as Dima thankfully!). 
> 
> For everyone struggling now, it gets better. Maybe you have bad days, or you have some months where you're backsliding, but it does get better. And one day you'll wake up, go about your day, and realize, you've been good for a while. And you're out of the woods. And your life is pretty good.


End file.
